


Wilby stories

by bewildered_soop



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: i also put in more effort than i do into my schoolwork, i wrote this cuz i was bored, there's also his kid and wife, this is about my minecraft character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewildered_soop/pseuds/bewildered_soop
Summary: Most of these are inspired by songs, feel free to guess in the comments?
Kudos: 5





	1. My world is an ocelot and a child

My feet hurt. That’s my only thought as we race through the spruce forest, the rhythmic thumps of our feet accompanied by the occasional snap of a branch one of us steps on. Our child is swaddled and wrapped securely on C’s front as the fire behind us sends waves of heat licking at our necks. The baby cries. The snapping of branches gets louder, more frequent, but not from our running. She’s winded, I can tell. I am too, my chest heaves, the air thick with smoke and ash, a cough on my right tells me she’s still right next to me albeit likely barely. Another wave of heat runs up my spine, teasing the nape of my neck, threatening to singe the ends of her braid, light the tips of my crown. This may just be it. The end of the road, our world crumbling around us; our world crumbling with us. I stumble, fear gripping my throat as I yell out slightly, regaining my footing before I could even make a proper noise. It echoes in my ears, the screams of the villagers we abandoned in an attempt to save ourselves, the sobbing of my child, the quiet tears of my wife, the crackling of the flames behind us, the crashing of the trees as they give way to the steadily growing inferno.

I hear her stumble as well, a small shriek, the baby jostled and crying louder than ever. We won't make it to safety. We can escape the inevitable, we can’t outrun our time. These are my last minutes, suffocating in the air thick with smoke, ears deaf to the cries from myself, face stained with tears and ashes, hand reaching for my wife and child. A ray of moonlight ahead reveals to us a field, one that may smell of dew and grass, the scent of fresh rain, but we’ll never know. Small white flowers dot the ground, trees growing thinner, the sky is revealed to show stars. I know she sees it too, we turn our path ever so slightly so we burst into the field panting. We aren’t safe and not close to being free, but we let ourselves go. We know the story’s end, we know how we’re going down. We’ve known this whole time. I look at her, holding my child, red-faced and shaking, still swaddled to her mother’s body. C’s back shakes, it must be so sore. I glance over, the orange streaks floating higher into the air, tiny sparks falling to the ground around us and streaking the grass with ashy stains. I can feel the warmth hugging me, welcoming. She looks at me, reaching out with her eyes, reaching out for an idea, for anything, but nothing. I return her stare with a blank one, she knows what I’m thinking, she always does. I can feel the fear, as I help her unwrap our child, eyes red from the ashes and crying, and kiss her forehead. She’s seen us do this before, wrapping up the blankets to form a bed for her to stare at the stars on.

I can only imagine how she feels, is the warmth like a hug, has she seen the flames? Does she know what flames are? I reach out to C, our hands connecting, and we close our eyes. More sparks fall, a glitter atop us, too cold to hurt when they land, but enough to tinge the grass more, streaks of grey forming on the grass under our feet. And we dance, eyes closed, bodies together, flames slowly enveloping everything and everyone, the heat hurting, and we try to pay no mind, I can feel her slowly give up on moving and we lay down next to our child, there was no escape. This was the end.


	2. Neither of us will be missed

If I could cry more tears I would, my arms were sore from hanging all the paintings on my walls, a memory of someone I used to have. To remind me that I am a fool, I made a mistake I couldn’t own up to, lost the only person I truly cared for. I don’t know what I expected, I should have been more careful, more aware of the consequences. More aware of how spoiled I was acting. The others here, well everyone but London, are good people, even with their flaws. They’re different, not bound down by memories and thoughts of who they may have lost in a hunt for power. 

I’m stuck here, exiled, chained to the past and my flaws. Until the end, this is my fate. Until I redeem myself, but how can I redeem myself when I can’t see anyone. Another painting up, my chest of them is empty now, my arms shaking. I told her that we’d have it all. I told Nep that we’d have power, she could have the independence she always wanted, a proper start in the world included. This was her exposure to the real world, a small start in what may soon become a burning mess. I mean that when I said it, I thought all I promised was true, an actual future for both of us. Now I’ve been made out to be a liar.

A knock at the door jostles my thoughts, my house shouldn’t be having visitors. I’m far away from Bakery Town, far away from those who didn’t want me, far away from my past. A small bit of red outside confirms my worst thoughts, I know who’s here to see me. Another knock resonates through my home, a small room with a path to my basement where I keep my kitchen and my working. I walk over, fear lacing my breaths, the doorknob cold under my fingertips. I could just ignore her with no repercussions, she holds no office, I hold no citizenship. I know she sees me, I’m visible through the top of the door. I don’t know why I open the door, the warmth of my house mixing with the crisp air from outside, she’s still in her suit, the same one I remember her wearing as president.

“Yes?” My question hangs in the air, I can tell she’s just as uncomfortable as I am, my door open enough for me to block the entrance.

“May I?” she gestures her hand as if she wants to come in, which may be the last thing I’d like.

I frown a bit, I know I don’t have to worry about her anymore, but I still don’t have to like her. “If you’ve got something to tell me, couldn’t you just say it here?”

“I suppose so,” Her voice hasn’t lost the tone of someone who thinks they’re better than everyone else. “I’d rather not stand on the opposite side of a door like a stranger though.”

“Let’s walk then.” I don’t know what she wants from me, why she’s approached me, quite possibly the only person to vocalize their distaste for her from the start. “You of all people is the one to approach me, the only one may I add.”

“They don’t miss you.” She shrugs, harsh as ever. “I don’t either to clarify.”  
“Didn’t expect you to.”

“They’ve exiled me too, short-lived ruling.”

“Took them long enough.” We keep walking in silence, the kind that isn’t comfortable, but it isn’t awkward. I don’t think either of us knows where we’re going, I can find out later, I’ve got a map in my pocket with my house marked off, and she can figure out her own path.

Eventually, we wind up on a cliff looking over an ocean, in the distance I can see fog rolling in just on the horizon, wind picking up, and the faint crash of water below us. I can feel the cold through my sweater, and I can see London’s hair getting ruffled by the wind slightly. I breathe in the damp air, a particularly large wave crashing on the shore below and sending a slight spray up towards us.

I hear her take a deep breath too, my guard is up even if it doesn’t need to be. I finally look over to her. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“We aren’t so different.” That wasn’t even close to what I was expecting. “Well, we are in terms of ideals, but we had the same outcome didn’t we.”

I nod, she isn’t wrong, we both wanted power. “There’s really just one thing that we have in common,” my voice is steady but I’m shaking a bit from the cold. “Neither of us will be missed.” I turn back to look over the water, I can still see the red of her suit in my peripheral vision as I sit down on the grass, patting the spot next to me to invite her to sit down, and pull a bottle from my bag, holding it out to her.

“What’s in it?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I laugh lightly, more of an exhale. “I don’t remember what I keep in there half the time. Could be water, could be alcohol, could be some potion.” I feel her take it from my hand.

“Nep knows what she’s doing you know.”

“I know. I’m just not ready to let go of her.”

“She’s already let go of you.”


End file.
